PlanetFargo

PlanetFargo: The Da Vinci Cheat Code

Together professor Ragdoll and I leapt over the counter at the rear of the store, rushed past frightened employees, and burst out the back of the building. We weaved through an alley and vaulted into the side door of a parking garage before I finally stopped him and caught my breath.

"What do you mean, 'Videogames predated even Da Vinci?'" I asked through frantic breaths. "Who came up with the idea?"

"It's well documented in the New Testament," he answered.

"You're telling me Jesus invented videogames?"

Ragdoll straightened up, took a breath, and quoted: "'Do not suppose that I have come to bring peace to the earth: it is not peace I have come to bring, but a sword... A person's enemies will be the members of his own household.' Matthew 10:34. He's clearly talking about mutliplayer."

"Dude he said 'sword,' not videogame."

"Sword is a commonly understood symbol for videogames," Ragdoll answered.

I reached up and pointed an accusatory finger at him. "Now you're just making stuff up!" I cried.

"It's true. References abound. Do you remember SEGA's code-name for the Dreamcast prior to launch?"

My eyes opened wide. "It was called ... Katana!"

Ragdoll spread his arms apart excitedly. "That's right: a Katana is a Japanese sword. The Dreamcast was launched on September ninth of that year: 9-9-99. The end of days."

"Jesus knew," I gaped. "Jesus knew videogames were coming!"

Overhead we could hear the distant whir of helicopter rotors. Ragdoll grabbed my arm and pulled me back into the present. "We've got to keep moving!" he hollered, pulling me toward the stairs.

Chapter 7

In the basement of the garage, Ragdoll rushed up to a rental car and beeped it open. He pulled a laptop computer from the trunk, slammed the lid shut, and pointed over his shoulder to an exit tunnel.

"Di Vinci knew," I gasped, putting the pieces together as we ran. "Da Vinci understood what Jesus was talking about and built the first videogame. But... how could it have been lost? Surely he would've left behind documentation, engineering plans..."

"He did," Ragdoll explained. He kicked open a heavy door, momentarily blinding me with sunlight. Warily, he peered outside, made sure the coast was clear, and together we darted into a coffee shop with free wireless access. The Professor flicked open his laptop as we sat down and called up a page. "What do you make of this!?" he asked.

Ragdoll tented his fingers and nodded. "A billionaire computer pioneer buys an original Da Vinci document, and within a couple of years announces that his company will spend billions of dollars to build a game console system. Coincidence?"

"But the Codex Leicester is on display every year," I replied. "It has nothing about videogames."

"Only the first 72 pages," Ragdoll said, pounding the flat of his hand on the table. "Sixteen are missing. Ask yourself: why would Bill Gates not want the other sixteen pages shown publicly? Why did he spend tens of millions of his own personal money to buy the documents, only to hide part of them?"

"I ... I don't know," I stammered.

"He had a vested interest in keeping those pages secret," Ragdoll announced. "Because Da Vinci's original console did not run on Windows!"